


Coffee Shop Confidential

by laceymcbain



Series: Shadows & Stone: Smallville Stories [4]
Category: DCU, Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friendship, M/M, Misunderstanding, Rumors, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-20
Updated: 2011-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laceymcbain/pseuds/laceymcbain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex Luthor appears to have a new boyfriend, and it isn't Clark.</p><p>Part 3 of 6 (complete) in what is affectionately known as "The Green Pigs and Ham" story arc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Shop Confidential

Clark pushed through the door of The Talon and headed straight for the counter. Lana was already making him a cappuccino, frothy and light, with extra whipped cream, and God, if he'd still been interested in her at all, he could've kissed her right then. Obviously she saw the need in his eyes, as she pushed the foamy confection towards him with a comforting smile.

"You look like you need this, Clark. Tough morning?"

"You have no idea," Clark murmured, tasting his coffee with a reverence usually only reserved for his mother's pie.

"I heard about what happened at school--guess I was lucky to have a spare period first thing this morning," Lana said.

Clark just smiled. Let Lana think his stress level had to do with the mess he'd found when he got to school--a mess that he hadn't contributed to, and for a change, wasn't responsible for fixing. It was sheer dumb luck that the school was being evacuated when he got there, something stupidly normal like a water main break and involving absolutely nothing like meteor mutant pigs or psychotic students or any of the other things that passed for normal at Smallville High. He hadn't even had to explain his lateness in the confusion.

What a morning. First the fiasco at the mansion ... all the cloak-and-dagger intrigue of Lex and Bruce in silk robes playing games that Clark wasn't sure he'd ever be old enough to understand, and then Lionel appearing in the middle of it all like some demented conductor, hair Beethoven-wild and waving a rolled-up newspaper as if he could control the movements of lives with a flick of his wrist. Maybe he could. Clark was never sure exactly how much power Lionel had, but he knew enough to be concerned when men like Bruce and Lex were. He knew deep down they were only trying to protect him, but the memory of Bruce touching Lex, kissing him like it was the most natural thing in the world ... Clark shuddered in spite of the warm coffee.

He hadn't appreciated being kept in the dark, or the closet, and yes, even he could see the irony of that. He hadn't liked the way Bruce acted like he belonged in Lex's life the way the purple shirts hanging in Lex's closet belonged, or the bust of Alexander that always found its way back to Lex's desk, no matter where the cleaning staff moved it. Bruce had seemed much too comfortable with Lex, and with Lionel for that matter. Clark was still trying to figure out how much of the scene in the hallway had been acting and how much had been something else entirely. Lex didn't seem to know where to draw a line with Bruce, and Clark wasn't sure what that meant. He got the impression there weren't many lines in that relationship that hadn't been crossed--maybe there weren't any. What that meant for him and his secrets, he had no idea.

Clark sipped his coffee slowly, and tried to make sense of what he knew--and what he didn't. It was painfully obvious that he didn't know a lot of what was going on, and more importantly that Lex wasn't telling him things. He tried to believe Lex simply hadn't had time to tell him. Yet. In between battling mutant pigs, discovering old friends (and former lovers), and getting shoved into a linen closet he'd never even guessed existed, there hadn't been a lot of time to talk. But now school was clearly done for the day, and Clark had seriously been planning on blowing off history class anyway. He wanted nothing more than to run back to the mansion and tackle Lex onto the couch. He was going to make Lex tell him exactly what was going on, and maybe in between the tackling and the talking there would be time for the touching that had been missing lately.

"Clark?"

Clark looked up at the hand on his arm. He hadn't realized that Lana had been talking to him. She stared at him as if he were wearing the biggest whipped cream mustache ever, and he absently wiped at his mouth.

"Yeah?"

"You seem a little out of it. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Just a strange morning," Clark said, and Lana nodded as if that actually explained anything at all.

"I'll say." Lana wiped absently at an invisible spot in front of Clark. He didn't know what she was talking about. She leaned forward conspiratorially, and the beginnings of a giggle spilled from her lips.

"What?" Clark felt like he was missing a vital piece of information. Something was going on, but he didn't know what. He'd been feeling like that a lot since Bruce had shown up.

Lana shook her head, as if she didn't quite believe what she was about to say. "I didn't think I'd ever say this." She gave another giggle. "I think Lex Luthor has a boyfriend."

Clark suddenly couldn't remember how to swallow, and the mouthful of coffee and cream made him feel as if he were drowning in something sweet and creamy. Lana was smiling and telling him Lex had a boyfriend, and he didn't know what he was supposed to do. They'd been so careful, and Lana was usually oblivious to these things. Yet here she was grinning and acting like it was every day that Clark Kent got outed in Smallville.

"What--what makes you think that?" Clark's voice sounded like something that had been pulled across his father's wood rasp. He swallowed, but the coffee had lost its taste.

Lana rolled her eyes. He could tell she thought he was being ridiculously silly, but he somehow didn't see the humour in the situation. What the hell was she doing?

"Take a look," Lana said, tilting her head towards the corner of the restaurant. "They've been here all morning."

Clark turned slowly, feeling as if his head was being pulled by some unknown force. He already knew what he was going to see, and damned if it wasn't like looking at a traffic accident. He couldn't seem to bring himself to turn away, and that was absolutely no surprise at all. He would've been more surprised if dancing pigs in green tutus had decided to parade past at that moment.

"Aren't they cute?" Lana whispered brightly.

Clark's cup shattered in a burst of coffee and pottery.

***

Lex set his coffee down and leaned back against the rounded cushion of the booth. He'd deliberately chosen an out of the way table near the back, but it didn't seem to be making any difference. The looks he and Bruce had garnered were already enough to make Lex wish they'd stayed at the mansion. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. Lex wasn't sure they'd been able to convince Lionel of anything, and being stared at by a bunch of high school students was not high on his agenda.

"Don't these kids have classes to go to?" Bruce asked as a waitress brought him another coffee. He smiled warmly and took a sip, ignoring Lex's haphazard shrug.

How was Lex supposed to know? Most of the time he was at home or the plant at this time of day. In retaliation for Bruce's insistence on coming here, Lex let the whipped cream linger on the tip of Bruce's nose for a second longer than necessary before reaching over and wiping it off. The eruption of giggles at the table behind them could've been about something else entirely, but Lex suspected it wasn't. Bruce looked at him as if he was considering removing Lex's entire hand, and not just the offending finger.

"You're the one who insisted on coffee that's more complicated than some chemical formulae." Lex licked the whipped cream off the tip of his finger and smiled. Not bad.

"How can a man who could synthesize narcotics at the age of fourteen fail to learn how to make coffee?" Bruce said darkly.

"Coffee used to be simpler," Lex snapped back. "It didn't used to take fifteen adjectives to order coffee."

"Are you sure you own this place?" Bruce stretched his arm along the back of the booth behind Lex's head. "Because what you know about coffee wouldn't fill a demi-tasse."

Lex rolled his eyes dramatically. "I know enough. Besides, who needs me when you're single-handedly supporting a village of Columbian coffee-pickers."

"I get cards from Juan and Pedro every year," Bruce said without missing a beat. "I'm practically one of the family."

"They probably named their burro after you." Lex snagged another finger of whipped cream off Bruce's cup and licked it casually.

"Touch my coffee again, and I _will_ hurt you, Lex."

"I'm shaking," Lex said grinning wildly. He was feeling just a little bit reckless.

"I never told you exactly how Harvey Dent was scarred, did I?" Bruce touched his napkin lightly to his lips and fixed his dark eyes on Lex.

"Did it involve an espresso machine, scalding milk, and someone touching your whipped cream?"

"No, but the principle is essentially the same."

Lex couldn't tell if he was joking or not, but he decided he'd had enough whipped cream for one morning anyway. Lex watched as Bruce's eyes darted awkwardly over his shoulder, scanning the coffee shop for any signs of danger. His relative safety in Smallville was something Lex usually just took for granted.

"You don't have to be on alert every minute, Bruce. The number of times I've been attacked in this coffee shop is," Lex thought for a moment, "relatively few." Bruce didn't look convinced. "Relax."

"I'm perfectly relaxed," Bruce said, glancing towards the door again. A small smile flickered at the corner of his mouth as he sipped his coffee.

"As much as any man can be with that much caffeine in him," Lex murmured. "You're worse than Clark with that stuff."

"I don't sleep much."

"I think I know why," Lex started, but Bruce's glare stopped him. Lex sighed and rubbed lightly at his temples. He let his head fall back against the cushion, feeling the rough wool of Bruce's jacket under his head. "So tell me again why we're here?"

"Your inability to make coffee at home?"

Lex rolled his eyes. "We have to figure out what we're doing, Bruce. You've got to get back to Gotham. My father's going to expect something from you, something more than vague generalities."

"So I'll assure him that his visit left you suitably rattled despite your outward calm, and that your friendship with Clark is nauseatingly innocent."

At the mention of Clark's name, Lex felt his heart start to beat faster. "God, I've got so much explaining to do. I've barely had time to tell Clark anything the last few days, and he's--"

"Jealous?"

"Bruce, look what he walked in on this morning. How would you feel?"

Bruce shrugged, and Lex felt the shift under his neck. Bruce was too fucking nonchalant about Clark's feelings, and Lex was starting to get tired of it. Well, Lex knew how to fix that. "I seem to recall you being less than understanding when you walked in on me and Harry Osborn--"

Bruce's eyes were black as day old coffee. Lex had a fleeting sense of what Bruce's enemies faced. "That was different. And you said nothing happened." He was looking at Lex for some kind of confirmation.

Lex grinned widely. "Not for lack of trying on my part." Long fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, and there was nothing gentle in Bruce's touch.

"More coffee?" Lana asked, suddenly appearing at Lex's elbow. Lex shook his head, easing out of Bruce's grip. Bruce raised his cup with a smile, and Lex batted him on the arm.

"I think you've had enough," Lex said.

"Think of Juan and Pedro."

"Bruce."

Bruce shook his head politely, lowering his cup as if he hadn't actually wanted any more coffee. Lana wandered back to wherever she went when she wasn't pestering the customers. When she was gone, Bruce eased closer until his mouth was right next to Lex's ear, his hand dropping onto Lex's shoulder in a casual embrace. "Your father's not going to go away. You and Clark need to be careful, and no offense, but the kid's about as careful as a crowbar. I believe we discussed this last night."

"I appreciate you being here. I do," Lex said, turning into Bruce. They could've been the only two people in the coffee shop. It never ceased to amaze him how Bruce's presence could wrap itself around him and block out the world with the simplest gesture. "So help me out. We could use the breathing room, and this is a small town. Things will get back to my father quicker than if we sent him a memo."

"You seriously want to give people--not just Lionel--the impression that we're a couple?" Bruce exhaled softly, and Lex could almost taste the coffee on Bruce's breath. "What'll Clark say?"

"He's already got more than enough to be angry about," Lex answered honestly, and Bruce nodded. "I'll talk to him. Besides, it won't be like that. We won't have to do anything other than show up together. A few public events. People will get the wrong idea, and they'll forget I spend so much time with Clark."

"What if they get the right idea?" Bruce said, shifting closer. "I mean, are we just good friends, or are we really ... good ... friends?" Bruce drew out each word like he was sucking on a hard candy, moving infinitesimally closer with every breath. Lex felt a ripple of something stirring, and the fingers on the back of his neck massaged him gently. Lex found he was pressed closer to Bruce than a moment before.

"Fuck you." Lex found himself falling into dark eyes a few inches away from his own. He resisted the urge to kiss Bruce and wipe that arrogant smile off his face. He could do it, and it would even help their charade, but something held him back. Lex wondered when his conscience had started wearing plaid and work boots.

"Thought you were a one farm boy man," Bruce smirked. His tongue darted out and licked lips that were already moist. Lex swallowed awkwardly.

"I am."

"You may have noticed I'm not a farm boy."

"I noticed."

Bruce's face was right in front of him, large as the moon. There was nothing else in the world at that moment. Bruce breathed in Lex's scent like an animal might, a deliberate sniff, slow and predatory, fingers tracing the outline of Lex's jaw with a long stroke. Bruce's lips ghosted across his, tongue flicking almost imperceptibly against the scar on his upper lip. Neither of them looked away.

Suddenly Bruce drew back and tapped Lex on the tip of his chin with a hard index finger. "Believable enough?"

"You bastard." Lex could still feel his body trying to keep up with the shifting sensations. God, no one had ever been able to fuck with him as much as Bruce, and that seemed only right since he knew exactly how to push every button Bruce had ever had. It was a wonder they hadn't permanently scarred each other. Lex knew Bruce was willing to help and would do whatever Lex asked, but they needed to be careful. There was a lot of history between them, and the irony was that Bruce had always been more fragile in some ways. Lex would never forgive himself if he hurt him like this, even if Bruce was asking for it. There was so much that could go wrong with this half-assed idea they were calling a plan.

"I didn't think you still cared, Lex." Teasing, but something else. Anger underneath it all and a thread of want, the same want they were both feeling. Lex couldn't deny it had always been there, would probably always be there. It was part of who they were, and Lex couldn't bring himself to regret that, hard as that might be sometimes.

"You know that isn't true." Lex matched Bruce's stare and refused to look away. "Don't play games, Bruce. It's not nice. Clark doesn't have the years that we do. He won't understand this." Lex realized he was hard and hot and the smell of Bruce's cologne was making him think about licking a cool stripe down his neck. "Fuck, I'm not sure I understand it."

"Maybe we just like torturing ourselves," Bruce said, trying to sound casual and failing. He was right--they were both masochists in their own way. They liked being on the edge of something. They liked when things were dangerous and one step away from spiralling out of control. But they weren't kids anymore, and there were other things at stake. Other people's feelings.

"I'm sorry," Lex breathed. He meant it. Bruce shook his head slightly and a hand came up to touch Lex's cheek. It was more gentle than it should've been considering the energy pulsing between them.

"Don't be." Everything was alright between them. They were inching away from the ledge again, but Lex knew it was only a matter of time before they found themselves in the exact same spot.

The sound of something shattering emptied the voices from the room. Bruce and Lex turned at the same time to see Clark standing wide-eyed and apologetic at the counter, Lana dabbing ineffectually at him with a dishtowel.

"Subtle," Bruce said. The resignation in his voice said everything.

***

Clark wanted nothing more than to super-speed out of The Talon and away from the on-going embarrassment that was his life. He found himself wishing for a meteor attack. Anything to get people to stop looking at him. Lana was rubbing at his thigh with that damn dishtowel and that was so not helping the situation. He took a step backwards and promptly knocked over a chair, sprawling on the floor as laughter erupted around him.

A hand was in front of Clark as he eased himself onto his elbows. He reached up and took it before he realized it was Bruce Wayne pulling him awkwardly to his feet. The man seemed a hell of a lot taller when Clark was lying on the floor, but standing beside him, looking him in the eye ... he still seemed taller. Fuck. Clark would've bet his allowance that Bruce was wearing heels.

"Clark, nice to see you again," Bruce said, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. Lex swept into view in a swirl of black coattails and power. With a look from Lex, conversation seemed to go back to normal. "No school?"

It figured that the first thing out of Bruce's mouth would be a reminder that, yes, he was still in high school. As if he needed that when everything about him practically screamed awkward teenager to anyone who would listen. Clark hated him a little more with each passing moment.

"They closed the school," Clark said, feeling no need to volunteer information.

"Anything wrong?" Lex sounded concerned, and the hand on his arm was comforting.

Clark let out a breath and shook his head. "Water main break." He was so happy to see Lex here, the hand gently rubbing his arm saying everything Lex hadn't said lately. The room was reduced to a pair of blue eyes and a look that said everything Clark was thinking. It felt good to be Lex's focus again.

And then a broad back was filling his vision, and Clark felt Lex's hand knocked off his arm as Bruce stepped between them. Clark wondered if it would be considered rude to throw Bruce into a wall. He was certain that a Bruce-shaped dent in the plaster couldn't hurt the overall design of the coffee shop, such as it was.

"Perhaps we should take this back to the mansion," Bruce said. The look he was giving Lex was speaking volumes about something, but Clark couldn't figure out what. He heard Lex give a small sigh as he took a step backward, away from Clark. The nod in Bruce's direction was almost imperceptible.

"Would you like a ride, Clark?" Bruce's voice was loud enough to carry through the coffee shop. "We don't mind dropping you off on our way home." With that Bruce reached out and took Lex's hand in his own, pulling him towards the door with a gentle tug. He didn't wait to hear Clark's answer.

Clark stood open-mouthed, watching matching black trench coats slip through the door. Lana patted Clark on the shoulder affectionately.

"They're so cute. You'd better go if you're going to catch a ride," she said. "They look like they're in a hurry to get home."

She giggled, and Clark didn't think it was too much to ask that the floor open up and swallow him. Right now. It would be better than having to walk past the gauntlet of classmates who had seen him crash and burn on the floor of The Talon, the same classmates who were even now whispering about Lex and Bruce holding hands. Really mature.

He stepped into the sunlight, deciding that there was no point in running. Bruce already had too many suspicions about him. Lex was behind the wheel of the Ferrari parked across the street. The car's newest hood ornament appeared to be a six foot four inch man dressed in black and looking grim. Clark levelled a glare at Bruce as he tried to side-step him on the way to the passenger door. A firm hand on the crook of his elbow stopped him.

"Whatever you think of me, don't take it out on Lex. He's doing this for you."

"Why should I believe you?" Clark said, shaking his arm free.

"You shouldn't. Believe him." Bruce pushed off the hood of the car. "Now get in."

Against his better judgment, Clark did what he was told.

***

The ride to the mansion was so silent that the engine in the Ferrari seemed louder than the diesel in the farm truck. The three of them ended up in the study, and Lex sent down for something to eat. Bruce slipped a small device from his jacket pocket and started turning in a slow circle, listening for something.

"What's that?" Clark asked.

"Checking for ... uninvited guests."

"Bugs? There aren't any," Clark said. He'd started checking regularly since they'd discovered a spy-cam in Lex's bookcase one day. They didn't need any of their extra-curricular activities caught on tape.

"Are you sure?" Bruce didn't sound convinced and looked at Lex for confirmation.

"Yes, I'm sure," Clark snapped back, tossing a glare in Lex's direction. Lex was prodding the fire and trying to ignore them both.

"You'd better be." The electronic thing disappeared into the folds of Bruce's black pants.

Clark had had enough. Maybe it was that Bruce was now mouthing a Ty Nant--Lex's Ty Nant--like he had more than a passing familiarity with phallic objects, or maybe it was because Lex was stabbing at the fire viciously with the poker every few seconds as if it was refusing to give him information. Clark looked back and forth between the two of them and prided himself on his restraint as he rejected the urge to incinerate both of them on the spot. Stupid assholes with their friendship and their history and their stupid matching clothes, as if this were all some fucking spy novel instead of their lives.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Clark yelled, directing the brunt of his anger at Bruce. This whole mess was clearly his fault, after all. "So far today I've been shoved in a closet--twice--and had to watch you and Lex crawl all over each other. I've seen you cozy up to Lionel, then turn around and act like you're doing me a favour for practically making out with my boyfriend in front of me. Twice."

"Clark," Lex's voice soothed, but Clark wasn't having any of it. He rounded on Lex.

"No, Lex, you're part of this too. You _slept_ with him last night, and I know maybe I'm just some stupid kid, but where I come from that's not what happens when you care about someone. The only person who should be sleeping in your bed is me, even if nothing's going on!" Clark didn't care that his face was bright red, and Lex and Bruce were both staring at him. They looked uncomfortable.

Good, Clark thought. It was about time someone other than him felt mortified with this little melodrama. "You haven't told me a fucking thing about what's going on, or what Lionel wants, or why Bruce is here, and I'm sorry but telling me it's for my own good just doesn't cut it. I felt like an idiot in The Talon--in front of all my friends, Lex--watching half my class giggle over you and your _boyfriend_. Last time I checked that was still me, and I'd really, _really_ like to know if something's changed."

Clark felt breathless and hot, but now that he'd started he couldn't seem to stop. He felt like a runaway train and even though the bridge was not only out but also on fire, it didn't seem to make any difference. He was going to see this through to the bitter end.

"I get that you guys are friends. I'm even okay with that, but you're not acting like friends, you're acting like more, and I ...you're ... fuck, Lex, what am I supposed to think? "

Lex's blue eyes looked so remorseful that Clark almost forgot he was angry with him. He'd never seen Lex look like that--like he was on the verge of falling off a very high ledge. He looked lost, which was exactly how Clark felt.

In an instant, there were hands on Clark's arms, and that seemed profoundly odd since he could still see Lex standing across the room, one hand gripping the mantle, the other wrapped tightly around the poker. Clark glanced at Bruce sharply.

"And would you quit fucking _touching_ me?" Clark burst out, shaking free. "Christ, I'm not some animal you have to soothe. For people who claim to have personal space issues, you two are about as touchy-feely as a family reunion."

"I only touch people I care about," Bruce said quietly, but he let Clark's arm drop. Clark was still trying to process just what the hell Bruce meant by that when he continued. "And I'm ... sorry. I over-stepped." Bruce turned and picked up his coat. "I have to get back to Gotham. Lex, don't be a stranger. I'll tell Lionel something; I'll make sure he backs off."

Bruce actually looked away, and Clark wondered what was happening here. Bruce seemed subdued, and that wasn't exactly the reaction Clark had been going for. Although it meant that Bruce was going back to Gotham, it wasn't what Clark had expected. Somewhere inside he felt bad about what was happening, and yet he had no intention of stopping it. It would be better for everyone when Bruce was gone.

Lex was nodding but not saying anything, which was completely out of character. Bruce slipped out of the study without another word. Clark knew he must be going upstairs to retrieve his bag, but he couldn't hear Bruce moving through the house. Not a creak on the staircase, not a single footfall. He still couldn't figure out how he managed to do that. Or how he seemed to be able to hear almost as well as Clark. That certainly wasn't normal. Maybe Bruce could teach him how to move like he did--assuming he ever saw him again. Assuming Bruce would still talk to him.

Clark swallowed and looked at Lex who was staring at the doorway like he'd lost his best friend. Clark half-expected him to go after Bruce, but he didn't. Just stayed absolutely unmoving while the fire crackled behind him. Somewhere in the distance, Clark heard the sound of the front door closing. Bruce was gone. Clark slumped onto the couch and ran his hands through his hair.

"I think you made your point, Clark," Lex said, moving to sit beside him. He didn't sound angry--just tired. Clark felt himself being tugged down so he was lying with his head in Lex's lap, fingers tangling gently in his hair. "Bruce doesn't apologize."

Clark rolled onto his back and looked into Lex's face. His blue eyes were distant, and Clark wondered what he was thinking. "Lex?"

"Neither do I. Even when I should." Lex smiled down at him. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, or to make you think anything was going on." Lex leaned his head back and sighed. "Old habits die hard. We got caught up in it. My father's always taken a particularly perverse pleasure in playing games with me."

"And what game is he playing this time?"

"He has a pretty good idea that we're involved, and he has more than enough suspicions about your abilities."

Clark swallowed hard. He knew Bruce and Lex were protecting him, but couldn't they have found some other way to do it?

"He put pressure on Bruce to check up on me. Bruce and I don't see each other much anymore, and we've gone to great lengths to keep our friendship private. We have separate e-mails, separate cell phones for getting in touch with each other so we can't be traced. We have places set aside where we can meet if we have to. It's ... bizarre, I guess," Lex said, as if the thought was occurring to him for the first time. "Bruce isn't like other men, and I guess I'm not either."

"He isn't an alien, is he?" Clark was pretty sure what the answer was, but he figured he'd better ask. That hearing thing still freaked him out.

Lex laughed. "No. He's definitely human. But our friendship tends to have different rules. It exists in a totally different world."

"I'm not exactly unfamiliar with the concept, Lex," Clark said, and was grateful when Lex returned his smile. He relaxed as Lex's fingers stroked his hair gently.

"You and Bruce are very different, but you have some things in common. I think you'd like each other given a chance. This wasn't exactly the set of circumstances I imagined for introducing you to him."

"So, why all the cloak-and-dagger stuff with your dad?"

Lex shrugged. "He was getting too close to your secrets."

"Did you tell Bruce?" Clark asked with some alarm, sitting up so fast he felt the blood rush to his head.

"No." Lex's hands cupped Clark's face firmly. "It's not my place. And he won't ask." Lex paused and Clark could see a decision being made, but he wasn't sure what it was. "But someday you might decide you want to tell him."

"Tell Bruce," Clark said skeptically. "I can't tell Lana, but you think I'll want to share my deepest secrets with a man who makes me want to set him on fire."

"There might come a time when it makes sense to tell him."

"Why? What do you know?"

Lex shook his head. "Everyone has secrets, Clark. Some people have more than others. I'm just saying Bruce might understand more than you think. We just thought if Bruce was in the picture he might leave you--leave us--alone for a bit. Give me time to find a way to push back. Bruce is used to protecting himself--in business and otherwise."

"So it was all just pretending?" Clark asked. He didn't need to add that the kissing had looked pretty damn real to him--he knew Lex could see it in his face.

Lex took a deep breath, and Clark knew whatever he was going to say would be the truth. Somehow that didn't give him comfort. "I won't say I don't feel anything for Bruce, but there's nothing going on. I swear. Bruce and I play games too. It's how we communicate. Growing up together, everything was either a game or a fight. Now it's more often verbal sparring instead of fencing or wrestling."

"You wrestled?" Clark said incredulously, picturing Lex in a tight blue spandex wrestling outfit and instantly regretting it as his jeans grew uncomfortably tight.

"Well, our wrestling matches weren't always sanctioned." Oh. Clark got it. Wrestling was Lex's polite euphemism for saying they screwed around a lot. "The point is, I guess we forget sometimes that we aren't fifteen and other people might not understand." Lex shrugged. "Pretending to be involved seemed like a good idea at the time, and now we're kind of stuck with the plan, for better or worse. It was to protect you, and I really am sorry. I never wanted you to have doubts about this relationship. God, Clark, I'd be so lost without you."

Clark believed him. Any time Lex slipped into something that sounded like a seventies love ballad, he knew he was sincere. Hopelessly romantic, but sincere nonetheless.

Clark pulled him into a tight hug. "I'm sorry too, Lex. I wasn't very nice to Bruce, and now he's gone." Clark had years of practice at feeling guilty about things. It came naturally.

"Bruce understands. More than he'd ever admit. If I know him at all, he'll call tonight to make sure things are okay." Lex looked at him intensely. "Clark, remember--if anything ever happens, you can trust Bruce. With everything."

"What the hell does that mean, Lex? You make it sound like ... God, how far do you think your father is willing to go to find out about me?" Arms tightened around him and Clark could feel Lex's heart racing in his chest.

"I don't know, Clark. I really don't know."

***

It seemed like no time at all before they found themselves in Lex's bedroom. Clark remembered every time they'd been here, the stolen moments, every step forward in their relationship. There hadn't been that many. Lex had been taking things too slowly for Clark's tastes, and Clark was ready for more. He pushed Lex down on the bed and eased himself on top of him.

"Next time, just tell me what's going on," Clark said, between kisses. Lex had explained everything, but it still didn't take away the image of Lex and Bruce kissing in the hallway, leaning into each other at The Talon, Lex wearing that focussed intensity Clark had always assumed was reserved for him.

"I will." There was a warm mouth at his throat.

"Stop trying to protect me." Clark held Lex's face in his hands and kissed him deeply, feeling Lex getting hard against him.

"I can't, Clark."

"Do you really have to pretend to be with Bruce?" Clark murmured, sliding his groin against Lex's. He was rewarded with a throaty groan.

"It's just for a little while, Clark. Just to ... God ... throw my dad off the trail." Clark felt hands grabbing his ass and pulling him closer. He licked a wet spot into the hollow of Lex's throat. "Besides, he's in Gotham. It's not like I'm going to be seeing him much."

"I still hate it," Clark said, biting at Lex's tender flesh. "I hate it. You're mine." He sucked until a dark bruise appeared on Lex's neck, high enough that his collar wouldn't hide it. So what if the world thought it was Bruce Wayne that put it there? Clark would know better. So would Lex.

"Yours," Lex said, as if he knew exactly what Clark was doing. He let himself be marked. He turned his neck so Clark could get a better angle as he explored Lex's pale skin, darkening to purple where Clark's lips touched. Buttons seemed to come undone almost by themselves as Lex's shirt slipped off his shoulders and was tossed aside. "God, Clark, I missed you."

"I can't tell, Lex."

In an instant, Clark found himself on his back, his shirt sailing over his head, hands stripping off his jeans in steady movements. His eyes rolled back in his head when Lex bared him completely, hands spreading his thighs and reaching for his cock. He jerked at the unexpected touch to the head, a slow tongue stroke, and then Clark was lost between the steady sucking of Lex's mouth and the short deliberate strokes of his fingers on the shaft.

"Can you tell now?" Lex's mouth hummed around Clark's cock as he spoke. Clark could feel the tremor all the way to his toes, and he couldn't help pushing deeper into Lex's mouth.

"No," Clark gasped, knowing he was asking for trouble. He didn't need to look down to know Lex was smiling. In fact, he didn't think he could look down. Seeing Lex's mouth on him would only bring this to an end that much quicker. No, Clark wanted it to last as long as possible. He kept his eyes closed and concentrated on stroking what he could reach of Lex's skin.

"There's no one but you, Clark." Lex plunged Clark's cock deep into his mouth, making him arch off the bed. "I want you." Nimble fingers stroked his balls and kneaded his thighs as Lex slid up and down the shaft, levelling his tongue along the underside of Clark's cock and flicking it around the head. Clark knew he was in danger of losing it. "I love you." A wet fingertip pressed inside him, and Clark forgot about everything else as he came in Lex's mouth, his hips shuddering with every motion of Lex's tongue as he licked him clean.

Clark's eyes blinked open, and he stared up into a smiling face. Fingers brushed lightly across his lips. He relaxed into the sheets, revelling in the slow exploration Lex was making of his mouth.

"Still feeling unloved?" Lex murmured

"Maybe a little."

Lex gave a small sigh, and kissed him again. One hand brushed affectionately at the damp hair on Clark's forehead. "You have nothing to worry about, Clark."

"Are you sure?" Clark couldn't help asking. He'd seen the way Lex looked at Bruce, the way Bruce looked at him. Maybe they wanted to believe it was over, but there was definitely something between them.

"I'm sure," Lex murmured knowingly. "Love is more than a feeling. It's a choice, and I choose you. Every day."

Clark wrapped his arms around Lex's waist and pulled him as close as he could.

"I'll always choose you, Clark."

Lex kissed him again and again until he was breathless and thoughts of Bruce and Lionel were far from his mind.

***

Lex was turning down the bed for the night when he heard a faint ringing coming from his armoire. He immediately pulled the cabinet open, flipping up the hidden panel underneath the television. The secret drawer slid out without a sound. He swung the black-and-silver cell phone open, silencing its annoying chirp. Bat-Phone indeed, Lex thought.

"I figured you'd call."

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Bruce's voice was more contrite than usual.

"No, Clark went home hours ago."

"Everything okay?"

"I explained everything. I wouldn't say he's happy, but at least he understands what we're trying to do." Lex could almost see Bruce nodding. He was probably sitting in the shadows of that damn cave of his, watching the flickering images on his computer screens.

"And I think I scared him a little," Lex added, remembering the way Clark had clung to him that afternoon like the world was about to end and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Clark had needed reassurance that he was loved and wanted, and Lex had tried to do what he could to prove that. Clark's views of love were sincere, but still simplistic, the world of love full of extremes, forever and always, with two people being meant to be together. Destiny. Lex was a big believer in destiny, but he wasn't so naive as to think there weren't gradations to it, degrees of love and friendship. In another life, it could just have easily been Bruce he would've chosen. And all three of them knew that.

"A little fear isn't a bad thing. He needs to be more careful." There was a pause. "How much did you tell him?" Bruce's tone suggested an entirely different question was being asked.

"Everything he needed to know and nothing he didn't. Your secrets are safe," Lex said. "I told you full disclosure isn't an option right now."

"It might help him understand why our friendship is so," Bruce seemed to be searching for the right word, "necessary."

Lex smirked. "Necessary, Bruce? Gee, that makes me feel all warm and tingly inside."

"You know what I mean, Lex."

Yes, he did. Necessary was everything they didn't say anymore. Nights full of wide-eyed dreams and long hallways that ended in dead babies and broken lullabies. Dark streets with rain-soaked alleys, blood spilling like pearls, and the frantic rush of wings. Hands and mouths and warm, hard bodies that held back every unimaginable horror. Lex closed his eyes and breathed in a flood of memories. Necessary was everything he couldn't tell Clark. At least not yet. There were some secrets that were harder to share than others. Lex wondered again which of them was more alien.

Lex took another deep breath to centre himself. He could still smell Bruce's cologne in the room.

He shouldn't have been able to.

"You left your cologne here." Lex said the words slowly as he reached for the small blue bottle beside the bed. He picked it up and held it to his nose. "That wasn't wise, Bruce."

He should've seen it right away. It glistened in the lamplight, and Lex sniffed at it once more. It was dark and sombre like the man who wore it. A mixture of spice and musk, it hinted at mysteries and secrets. It smelled like home. Christ, what would Clark have thought if he'd made the connection?

"I thought it might be comforting." Lex listened for what Bruce wasn't saying, which was always at least as important as the actual words that came out of his mouth. "I wasn't trying to ... Did Clark--"

"No, he didn't notice, but still." Lex didn't want to have to explain why Bruce's cologne was sitting on his nightstand. There were already too many things about his relationship with Bruce that he couldn't put into words. He supposed the smart thing to do would be to throw the bottle in the trash, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He slipped the bottle into the drawer.

"I'm sorry, Lex. Honestly, I just thought it might help you sleep. You used to--"

"I know what I used to do," Lex said tersely, closing his eyes. Sometimes he hated having someone who knew every secret thing he'd ever said or done. Even now, he could remember what it felt like to turn his face into his pillow during those long summers when Bruce was in Gotham and he was in Metropolis. He would turn and breathe deeply so he could smell Bruce beside him. Pretend that if he reached out a hand, he could feel him there, watching over him. It had been the only way he'd slept some nights.

Lex sat heavily on the edge of the bed, thoughts carrying him down paths he hadn't walked in a long time. The silence stretched into minutes, and Lex wondered when he'd gotten so comfortable with just the sound of Bruce's breathing on the other end of the phone.

"I know this is asking for trouble, but ..." Lex paused, unsure how to continue. He didn't like having to choose his words with Bruce. He'd always been able to say whatever came to mind, however it tumbled out of his mouth, and Bruce had known him well enough to sort through everything and take what mattered. But Clark had made it pretty clear that he needed Lex to set some boundaries with Bruce, and Lex had to at least give it a try. He just wasn't sure how.

"Don't stop telling me things now, Lex. It's too late for that. Too many years. Honesty's all we've got."

"Liar," Lex breathed, barely loud enough to be heard.

"I wish I was there too." The tenderness in Bruce's voice almost broke him. "I could hold you. It wouldn't have to mean anything."

But they both knew it would. Lex closed his eyes. God, this was so fucked up. He had Clark, he loved Clark, and there was nothing he wanted except Clark, and still ... Bruce made him feel safe in a way no one else ever had. Lex knew he could always count on Clark charging to the rescue at the last minute. Clark would reach in and pull him out of the fire, but Bruce would walk into it with him and sit silently until he was ready to leave. It was a different kind of safe, and one that was just as necessary to who Lex was.

Maybe it was because Bruce understood what lurked in the darkness--things Clark couldn't even conceive of, and there was something comforting about that. Lex didn't want Clark to know about those things. Although he doubted he could protect him forever, he'd settle for letting him have a few more years of innocence. As many as he could provide.

"All these years and I still sleep better when you're around," Lex said, shaking his head. He laughed, although the ache in his gut told him it wasn't funny. "It's not fair."

"Put it on speaker, Lex." Lex sighed and did what he was told. He set the phone on the bedside table, and stretched out. "You know, you might sleep better if you actually got undressed once in a while."

"How do you know I'm not undressed?" It was an old game, and Lex could almost hear the eye roll through the phone.

"Exceptional hearing, remember?" Yeah, Lex remembered. Bruce had always known when he was trying to sneak into their room. Of course, he also seemed to know when Lex was getting the crap beat out of him, which was something Lex had never been as grateful for as he should've been. "In fact, I would say from the weight of the silk, you're wearing the tie I picked up for you in Thailand last time I was there."

"A tie from Thailand? That seems appropriate," Lex smirked, loosening the knot and sliding off the aubergine silk. He dropped it casually on the nightstand.

Bruce ignored his attempt at humour. "Black Armani wool pants, single pleat, no cuff, and a cotton-blend dress shirt. Purple, I'd guess. To go with the tie."

Lex laughed and unbuttoned his lavender shirt, tossing it on the chair. He kicked off his shoes. They hit the floor with a thud.

"And those would be Gucci loafers, size 10 narrow. No tassle."

"Jeez, next you'll be telling me what kind of underwear I have on." Lex undid his pants and let them slip to the floor, tossing his socks on top.

"Silk boxers. Black. No, wait ... purple."

Lex looked down. Damn. He didn't even have the energy to try a bluff. "Okay, okay, you win. Apparently, I have no secrets from you." He lay down on the bed and started to relax. It felt good to laugh like this. Like they hadn't had two of the strangest days they'd had in a long time.

"You know, if you actually get _under_ the covers, you won't be shivering like that."

Lex pulled back the covers and slipped inside. He scowled at the phone, but what was the point? It wasn't like Bruce could see him anyway.

"And you can stop glaring at the phone," Bruce said warmly, without a trace of malice. Lex was happy they'd decided against the video-phones, although it really didn't seem to matter. They knew each other too well.

Lex rolled onto his side and stared at the phone. It was strange having Bruce here like this, a disembodied voice that he knew as well as his own, although it certainly wasn't the first time. It had been stranger having him here last night, wrapped around him, and yet it had felt right. Too right.

"Bruce?"

"It's okay. You can turn out the light." Lex closed his eyes. It was something to be known this well. To be understood. He plunged the room into darkness, tugging the covers up around his shoulders. "You know, Lex, I'm just a phone call away. Any night."

"I know. It's just--" Lex sighed. "It seems stupid to need this."

"Come on, Lex, it's me." Lex knew there wasn't anything they couldn't say to one another, and they'd certainly put that to the test in high school.

"I feel like I'm back at Excelsior and you're in Gotham on Christmas break."

"Do you want me to send you a Bat-Nightlight?"

Lex blinked and stared at the phone. Sometimes Bruce came out with the oddest things. "No. And you have no idea how disturbing it is to know that you actually have a Bat-Nightlight."

"I could be there in an hour. I've got the Bat-Plane now."

Lex snickered into the pillow. Bruce was utterly hopeless. "You know, you don't have to put ‘bat' in front of everything you own."

"It's my trademark." Bruce sounded a little defensive, but the pride in his voice was obvious.

"Speaking of that, have you--"

"Already registered, proceeds going to Gotham's Orphans of Violent Crime Fund." He spoke too quickly, and Lex wasn't fooled for a moment. Some hurts never disappeared. There was a small pause, and Lex waited for the inevitable shift away from Bruce's past. "You could try phoning Clark sometime, you know."

"He already has enough concerns about my mental health." It wasn't as if Lex had never thought of calling Clark, but it was more difficult when one's lover was still in high school and had a ten o'clock curfew on school nights.

"You do get hit in the head a lot since moving to Smallville." Bruce sounded thoughtful, and Lex was gripped with the sudden desire to lob a pillow in his direction. They'd never had a pillow fight by cell phone, but he supposed there was a first time for everything. They'd done a lot of other things when they weren't actually in the same room together. He couldn't help but grin, although he knew Bruce couldn't see it. Somehow the bastard always seemed to know.

"Head trauma makes you happy, Lex? You're smiling." Lex could hear smug triumph with a hint of laughter.

"Oh, fuck off," Lex said. "Is it my fault freaks and mutants seem to be attracted to me?"

Laughter erupted over the phone--sharp and unexpected. "Should I take that as a compliment?"

"Bruce, you're not--" Lex realized the laughter was getting louder. "Shut up."

"Just think about calling Clark." Bruce's voice was serious again. "He can be there for you. He wants to be, but you have to let him."

"I wasn't aware you'd started writing an advice to the lovelorn column for the Gotham Gazette," Lex said snidely. "But I'll think about it. For whatever reason, he loves me, and I don't want to screw this up."

"You won't."

Bruce's statement didn't require an answer, and the conversation slipped into comfortable silence. Lex closed his eyes and stifled a yawn. "I guess I'm more tired than I thought."

"You should sleep," Bruce murmured. "I'll be here."

"And there's nothing weird about you spending the night in a cave listening to me breathe via cell phone."

"Nothing at all." Lex hadn't been lying when he'd told Clark their friendship existed in a different world. Sometimes he forgot how strange it would seem to other people.

"Don't you have rounds to make or something? Buildings to scale? Plans to foil? Villains to thwart?" Even to himself, Lex sounded sleepy.

"It's Tuesday. Tuesdays are pretty slow around here." Bruce gave an exasperated sigh. "Much as I never tire of your witty repartee, you're exhausted."

"You'll--"

"I'll be here all night. Go to sleep, Lex."

Lex closed his eyes.

***

Bruce leaned back in his chair in the Bat Cave, the television monitors casting grey and blue shadows on the walls around him. In the background he could hear Lex's breathing, steady as rain. He pulled open a drawer and extracted a small round object that replicated the Bat Signal. There was a plug in the back. A sweep of the desk's contents turned up a padded envelope and a purple marker, no doubt left over from Lex's last visit. He loved Lex, but his fixation with purple was more than a little disturbing, particularly when The Joker seemed to have the same fascination with the colour that Lex did.

When the soft sound of snoring emanated from the phone, Bruce had to keep from laughing. Yeah, right, Luthors didn't snore. Lex had been languishing under that delusion for years. Bruce switched a button on the control panel, and pressed record. For a few minutes he just sat and listened. Anyone else would've thought it strange, but he didn't care. Their friendship had always been different. He'd spent nights in stranger circumstances--many of them with Lex. It was comforting to be this close, even if they were in different cities.

Bruce printed Lex's address on the outside of the envelope, slipped in the nightlight and, after a moment's pause, added the CD of Lex snoring and labelled it "Eine Kleine Nacht Musik." Bruce laughed softly to himself. Lex would appreciate that one--after he'd thrown a tantrum and destroyed the CD in typical Luthor fashion.

The pen hovered for a moment before Bruce rejected the notion of a return address. Lex would know who it was from. The Bat-Nightlight would be a dead giveaway, and it was best to have as few connections as possible.

Aware of Lex's breathing, Bruce reached for the other phone and dialled, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb his sleeping friend.

"This is Bruce Wayne. I need a package delivered to Smallville, Kansas, by morning."

He touched the edge of the envelope fondly. "Yes, it's extremely important."

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> For more information on the complete series, please see the first story in any of the _Shadows & Stone_ series.
> 
> Originally posted in November 2004. Revised and reposted January 2005.


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